Uniquely Her
by Vivere Sine Timore
Summary: Mal tries to figure out Natara.


Stranger. Threat.

He remembered the first time he'd ever met her. They had been at the fisherman's wharf, surrounded by other cops and CSUs. The Maskmaker was still at large, and behind the yellow police tape line laid his latest victim. He remembered she had been wearing a black jacket (_blazer, _she later corrected him) and matching pants, and that she had stepped out of the circle and snapped a picture. He remembered thinking she was just some curious bystander.

He remembered her cool demeanor, her collected expression and words, with the exception of when he asked if he could call her Nat. It hadn't taken a profiler to know she'd thought he was beneath her. And in a way, he agreed. (After he found out she was with the FBI, of course.)

Adversary. Ally. Teammate.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint when he stopped thinking of her as a stranger and a threat, but he remembered when he acknowledged her as an ally (at the very least). They had been in the car, on their way to Chinatown. He knew when she profiled him and he told her what "his gut thought of her" that they would constantly be butting heads. An adversary. His mind provided him with the correct word. She was an adversary to him.

But the fact that she wouldn't take anyone's crap and couldn't be told what to think, that just made him trust her. They were playing for the same team, and as much as she irked him, he was glad she wasn't on the opposite team. That would have meant the death of him.

Partner. Confidant. Friend.

The first night they went to Rip Van Winkle's together changed everything between them.

That night they truly became partners. They told each other about the crazy and funny cases they'd worked, even some personal stories. And then when they walked out onto the patio and watched the ocean... He'd finally told someone about Sandra and the end of his marriage. He'd taken a leap of faith and confided in her, and he didn't even feel hurt when she fled. A little disappointed, maybe, but he wasn't hurt by her actions.

That night, he also saw her as someone other than just his partner. He saw her as his friend, something he had very few of. But he realized she was. She was his friend, and he could trust her to be there for him. Then he remembered she would probably be leaving after this case was over.

Girlfriend. Finacée. Wife.

He remembered the first time he realized she was beautiful. It was after Tasha had died, in his dream. He hair had been shining and she looked absolutely flawless. At the time he didn't realize it because he was so distraught, but that was the first time he really saw her. The first time he wanted her to be his.

He remembered when she finally said yes. He'd asked her to go on one date with him, and she'd turned him down the first time. And the second time. And the third, fourth, fifth. But the sixth time she finally got fed up with him, and she said yes. She willingly went on the one date. He remembered what she wore and how late she was and what she ordered.

That one date turned into ten, and those ten turned into twenty. And then three years later, on their 212th date, he asked her to marry him. He remembered how she couldn't speak, but nodded and held out her left hand. He remembered the applause from restaurant and how hard she blushed.

He remembered the best day of both of their lives. He remembered how, for once, he didn't mind wearing a tuxedo. Natara had worn a sleeveless wedding dress, decorated with frills and bows and lace. He remembered how people tossed white rose petals at them as they exited the church, and the all too short ride to the reception hall. He remembered their first dance as husband and wife. He couldn't quite remember what song it had been to, but then again he could only focus on Natara.(It probably didn't help that Natara had picked it out.)

Mystery.

He smiled from the doorway of their bedroom. Natara danced around the room, oblivious to Mal's gaze, and cooed at their daughter. Lydia laughed and grabbed a fistful of her mother's hair and tugged, and Natara laughed with her baby. He pushed off the wall and circled his arms around his two favorite girls in the world. Natara smiled and craned her neck up to kiss him. Lydia squawked and grabbed his nose.

Even after all these years, she was still a mystery to him. She managed to balance a job, being a wife and being a mother. At the station she was cool and professional and collected. With Lydia she was goofy and playful. And with him she was loving and faithful. There were so many different sides to her, and he still didn't know how she managed them all.

But he guessed that's what made her uniquely her.


End file.
